Let me fix your hair and we'll hurry to Vinton's as fast as ever we can.

I'm simply starved." Mary Reynolds obediently sat on the chair Grace placed for her and the hair dressing began.

Grace and Emma both exclaimed in admiration as Grace unbraided the soft-golden brown hair, which, once free, broke into waves and curls.
"Did you ever see a prettier head of hair ?" exclaimed Emma.
"I think it would look best combed low over her forehead, don't you ?" asked Grace.
Emma nodded her approval as Grace, with deft fingers, arranged the thick curly locks in a strictly smart fashion which completely changed Mary Reynolds' forlorn appearance.
"Now look in the glass," directed Grace, when she had finished.
Mary gazed earnestly at her new self.

"It can't be me," she said with a pardonable disregard of English.
"But it is," Grace assured her.

"You must learn to do your hair like that and wear it so.